Marching on Niagara; Or, The Soldier Boys of the Old Frontier

by Edward Stratemeyer

  CHAPTER X

  HOW HENRY FARED

  Let us now go back to Henry Morris and find out what occurred to theyoung hunter and Mrs. Risley immediately after Dave departed from theresting place in the forest.

  As we know the tired woman had fainted from exhaustion, and for fullyten minutes Henry had all he could do to restore her to consciousness.He rubbed her hands and wrists vigorously and fanned her face with hiscap, and at last had the satisfaction of seeing her open her eyes.

  "Oh!" she murmured. "I--I--what happened? Did I--I fall?"

  "You fainted I reckon," answered the young hunter, kindly. "The walk wastoo much for you."

  "Yes--I felt I couldn't go another step, Henry. I see we are still inthe woods. Are the Indians near?"

  "I don't think they are--at least, we haven't seen anything of them."

  "Where is Dave?"

  "He has gone on ahead, to see if all is right at home, and if it is tobring help."

  "I would give all I possess to be at your cabin," said the poor woman,with a sigh. She tried to rise, then sank back heavily. "I--I--don't seehow I am going to walk."

  "You had better rest a bit longer, Mrs. Risley. There is no great hurry.It may pay us to go slow--with so many redskins lurking about. They maybe--"

  Henry broke off short, and thinking his companion was about to speak,clapped his hand over her mouth. Through the stillness of the forest hehad caught sounds that could mean but one thing--the approach of severalmen. In a moment more he caught glimpses of a flickering lightapproaching.

  "We must hide!" he whispered in Mrs. Risley's ear. "Come, there isn't asecond to lose!"

  "But where shall we go?" she panted, her heart leaping into her throat."I cannot run a step--it will kill me!"

  The young hunter looked around in perplexity. There was some brushwoodto their right, growing among some sharp-pointed rocks. He caught hiscompanion's hand and almost dragged her in that direction. On the rocksMrs. Risley's foot slipped and she gave a cry of pain.

  "My ankle--I have twisted it badly!"

  "Hush! they will hear!" he answered, and seeing she could go no further,he caught her in his youthful arms and carried her forward. In the midstof a clump of bushes he laid her down and threw himself flat beside her,at the same time holding some brushwood down over them.

  By this time the glimmer of light had come closer. It was a torch, heldin the hands of a tall Indian, who was following up the trail of thewhites with great care. The Indian had with him six companions, allarmed with either guns or bows and arrows, and each hideous in hiswar-paint.

  Hardly daring to breathe, Henry awaited their close approach, his lefthand holding down the bushes and his right on his gun. Soon the warriorswere at the spot where Mrs. Risley had fainted. Here they came to a haltand began to talk in low tones.

  It was a moment of intense anxiety, and it must be confessed thatHenry's heart almost stopped beating. The warrior with the torch heldthe light aloft, and all in the party gazed around with eyes as piercingas those of some wild beasts.

  The warrior with the torch held the light aloft.]

  In a moment more something happened which changed the tables of fortune.Unable to bear the pain of her twisted ankle, Mrs. Risley drew in asharp, rasping breath which sound reached the ears of one of theIndians. Instantly he stepped in that direction and spoke to the warriorwith the torch. Three of the band came forward with swift steps andarrows pointed. A yell rent the air, telling that those in hiding werediscovered.

  Seeing it was useless to remain prostrate Henry leaped up. An arrowwhizzed past his shoulder and would have struck him fairly in the breasthad he not leaped to one side.

  He, too, blazed away, and saw the leading Indian go down, shot throughthe breast, a serious if not a mortal wound. Then he pulled Mrs. Risleyto her feet.

  "Run!" he cried. "Run! It is your only chance. Hide in the woods!"

  She limped off, but ere she had gotten a dozen steps two of the warriorswere after her, and she was made a prisoner. In the meantime Henryretreated to a clump of birch trees and there made a stand against theremaining Indians.

  The struggle, which lasted but a few minutes, was an unequal one.Another arrow was fired, and it grazed his left hand, causing the bloodto flow freely, and making the stains afterward discovered by Dave. Thenone of the red men came up behind the trees, and reaching out struck himwith the flat side of a tomahawk. Henry tried to turn and grapple withhis assailant, but suddenly his senses left him and he knew no more.

  "'Tis one of the Morris family," said the Indian with the torch, in hisnative tongue. He made an examination. "He is not dead."

  "A good capture," said another. "We must take him along. Gonawak, youmust help to carry him."

  "And what of the woman?" asked the warrior addressed as Gonawak, wellknown throughout that territory for his extreme cruelty.

  "Talking Deer will take care of her," was the answer. "He is to takecare of all of them until this raid is over."

  But little more was said, and in a few minutes the unconscious form ofthe young hunter was picked up and borne through the forest in thedirection of the nearest stream. As has been said, water leaves notrail, and for this reason the redmen instinctively used the shallowstream for a roadway.

  When Henry regained his senses he found himself strapped to the back ofa horse and moving slowly westward through the forest. The wound on hishand had been allowed to bleed itself out. He felt both weak and stiffand had a dull ache in his head, where the tomahawk had landed andraised a good-sized lump.

  By a blaze on the animal's neck, Henry recognized the horse he rode asone belonging to a pioneer living in that vicinity. He was in thecompany of nine redmen, four of whom were mounted on stolen horses. Fromthis he inferred that the Risley cabin was not the only one which hadbeen attacked on that fatal night.

  He looked around, but could see nothing of Mrs. Risley nor of any othercaptives. He was alone with the savage warriors, and what they intendedto do with him there was no telling. But he had good reasons forbelieving that a horrible fate was in store for him.

  "I must get away if I can," he thought. "They can't do any more thanshoot me if I try to escape, and even that will be better than to beburnt at the stake."

  The Indians now noticed that he had recovered consciousness, and one ofthem rode closer and said sharply:

  "White hunter boy must keep still. If yell will strike him!" And heflourished his tomahawk threateningly.

  "Where are you taking me?" questioned Henry. But the Indian would notanswer and only told him to keep quiet.

  It was growing morning when the small band came to a halt, at the bankof a wide stream where there was a series of rapids among the rocks.Henry was cut loose and ordered to dismount. Then he was led to a nearbytree and tied up once more.

  "Will you give me a drink?" he asked of one of the Indians, but foranswer the redman slapped him sharply over the mouth and told him tohold his tongue.

  Suffering much from thirst and from the wound on his left hand, whichhad now begun to swell, Henry watched the Indians as they prepared anearly morning meal, for the light of dawn was now showing in the east. Afire of very dry wood, which would give little smoke, was lighted andover this two of the redmen prepared some deer meat they had beencarrying. The smell of the cooking venison was tantalizing to Henry, buthe knew better than to ask for a portion of the repast. Once or twicethe Indians came up to him but only to jibe at him and poke him withtheir guns or their bows, while one made a move with his hunting knifeas if to cut out the young hunter's heart.

  While the Indians were busy eating Henry tugged at his bonds with allthe strength he could muster. But he was too weak, and the warriors hadbound the rawhides too firmly, for the youth to budge them. He only madehis wound break out afresh, and then had to stop, well-nigh exhaustedwith his effort.

  "Getting away is out of the question," he thought, and a heavy sighescaped his lips. "They will keep a sharp watch on me until they getback t
o their village and then they will take great delight in torturingme in every way they can think of. Oh, what savages they are, every oneof them!"

  Thus musing, Henry watched the Indians eat their meal. When they hadfinished one warrior came to him with some of the scraps and with a cupfull of dirty water.

  "White hunter boy can eat," said the Indian, and untied one of hishands. It was far from an appetizing meal and was decidedly scant. Butit was better than nothing, and not wishing to starve to death Henry ateall that was offered him and drank the water to the last drop. Then hisloose hand was once again fastened behind him.

  The Indians were now holding a consultation, sitting close to the dyingembers of the fire and smoking their long-stemmed pipes. But little ofwhat was said reached Henry's ears, yet he caught the words "big feast"and "burn at stake" spoken in the Indian tongue. At this he had toshudder in spite of every effort to control his feelings.

  "I must get away!" he thought. "I must! I'm not going to allow them toburn me at the stake! It's horrible. I've heard all about old Sol Harperand Dick Waterbury, and how they suffered. I'd rather be shot.They'll--Oh!"

  His thoughts came to a sudden end, and for the instant he felt that hemust be dreaming. His eyes had strayed to the bushes on the oppositebank of the stream. A white hand was raised warningly and the bushesparted slowly, showing the face of his old friend, Sam Barringford.Henry nodded, to show that he had seen the old frontiersman. Then thebushes closed again and Sam Barringford disappeared.